Let Me Help
by allwalkfree
Summary: Tim finds a damaged teen with shocking white hair in a dark Gotham alley and decides to take him home.
1. Chapter 1

"You are running quite late master Timothy." Taking a sharp turn to the left, Tim hummed softy through the cold device pressed against his ear.

"I know Alfie, I'm sorry. The meeting went on a lot longer than I anticipated. I'll be there within the hour. You guys just go ahead and eat without me."

"Nonsense," the butler scoffed from the other side, making the younger male quirk his lips into a hint of a smile. "We shall wait your arrival. Drive safely young master."

"Of course Alfie, thank you." Their conversation ended there. Taking another turn to the left, Tim squinted at the dark street ahead of him. He didn't like to drive in these types of hours usually, and the thought that someone could somehow run into the street without him noticing, only to get hit by his car greatly disturbed him for some reason.

Still, he was running late; having dragged on the meeting himself in order to settle future issues as well as map out upcoming project with the higher-ranking members of his staff and having sent his only reliable driver home due to the late hours, he'd put himself in the current predicament he found himself in.

_Oh well_, he thought._ It can't really be helped._

Coming to a stop at the red light, he adjusted his collar and leaned back into one of the newly changed leather seats. He sighed, shoulders slumping slightly and eyes blinking away the grogginess. He didn't much look forward to seeing the 'family' but the time spent at the mention might provide him with just enough leg room to rest for a minute. Yawning loudly, he fiddled with his phone. He really needed the rest. Even he couldn't max out three days without at least two hours of some proper sleep.

Not that he couldn't function to an educate human level in the state he was in; God knew he wouldn't put the civilians around him in that kind of danger by being on the road if he wasn't sure, but every individual needed some rest every now and then, and Tim was quickly reaching his own limits.

He was lucky most of the streets were empty at this time of day, being determined not to cause a pile up on his way home, but that didn't mean he didn't feel just a tad bit more relaxed knowing that he didn't have to pay as much attention to the road as he otherwise would've.

As the light turned from feverish yellow to dull green, he started up the car again and smoothly moved forward in the direction of the manor. Well-

That had been the plan- but when the slightest hint of a movement from the narrow alleyway across the street caught his peripheral vision, his car came to a screeching halt, body immediately on full alert as his eyes scanned the dark pathway between two of Gotham's tall buildings. Ignoring the blaring honking noise behind him, he swiveled his car to the side till he was at least secure in the fact that the vehicle wouldn't get in the way of ongoing traffic, before unbuckling his seatbelt and scooting over to the passenger seat in order to get out without giving the furious driver behind him a chance to run him over in revenge.

Opening the door leading to the sidewalk he quickly stepped out, paused for a second in contemplation, before reaching down under the seat, digging around and finally producing a cold glinting object. Thank God for Jason. Bruce wouldn't like it, but fuck if Tim would walk into what clearly now looked to be a hostile situation as a civilian without a sufficiently being able to protect himself.

Checking the safety just in case, he tucked the loaded pistol into the waistband of his pants. He also; after a momentary second of debate discarded the fancy suit jacket, throwing it without much concern inside the car before slamming the door shut and making his way quickly but carefully over to the dingy alleyway he'd first spotted the commotion.

Thugs, was his first conclusion when he finally was far enough down the alley that he could make out the shapes of the three men leaning over whoever they had apparently decided to harass today. One of them was holding what looked to be a sharp enough object that it glinted dangerously from his clutched fist.

That could be a problem, but that man also appeared to be the only one wielding any sort of weapon so at least this situation what somewhat controllable. Well, definitely controllable for Red Robin, but Tim Drake Wayne could manage himself here as well.

"Oi," he called out drawing near enough to differentiate faces now. "What do you think you losers are doing?"

Trying to channel his best Jason Todd, he made sure to lower his voice down a peg, tried to make it sound more gruff than usual, and tried to draw himself up to his full height; not impressive at all according to Dick, but hey, if that didn't work he always had a gun.

At the sound of another stranger joining their little party, the three giants swiveled around, identical snares painted across their faces.

Tim couldn't really make out the hunched figure on the ground properly, but from what he could see, the figure was tiny-and it wasn't moving.

Well, that was worrying.

"What do you want shrimp. This aint non ya business so scram!"

Tim just crossed his arms, staring the knife wielder down from across the alley. "It is my business when you're harassing a homeless person in the middle of the night. Now leave before I call the cops."

They shifted but didn't move. "You think you can threaten me!" That was the knife wielder again. So? He most have clearly been the leader of this little ragtag team of bullies.

"Yes," Tim answered easily, now examining his nails in bored contemplation. "Either that or I'll shoot you. Pick."

Was it extreme? Yes. Was it necessary? Probably. Tim wasn't really proud of it, but what Bruce didn't know wouldn't hurt him and besides, Jason would get a good laugh out of it.

"A gun?" Knify sounded slightly uncertain now. Tim nodded and reached behind his back making the group scramble back from their victim.

Good.

"Yeah," he said. "Wanna see?" Before they could call bluff, he pulled out the cold metal from his waistband, pulled the safety with a click and aimed.

The effect was instant.

Scrambling back even further; the shorter one stumbling in panic into knify sending them both tumbling onto the dirty, rat infested Gotham ground, while the other took that opportunity to scram.

Tim waved the gun around some more. The other two didn't linger much longer after that. Darting with their tails between their legs after their third traitor of a companion.

Wow this was fun. No wonder Jason was so into it.

_Reminder,_ Tim thought, _that he needed to hand it back before he got ahead of himself. Dangerous territory and all that. _

Clicking the safety back on, he stuffed the gun in his waistband again and slowly made his way over to the homeless person. He hoped the person was ok. Maybe he could help them towards one of the homeless shelters the Wayne foundation funded. It was the least he could do.

Crouching down despite the brief flair of pain shooting up his left knee, he observed the buddle of dirty coat huddled into the corner of the awfully smelling garbage bin.

"Hey," he said softly, bowing his head down to meet the gaze of the shivering body. "You're safe now. The bad men are gone, you can come out now."

He'd learned through experience that babying the victims usually put them more at ease than if you talked to them like equals. Either they would get annoyed at the disrespect thus focusing on their annoyance rather than the traumatic experience or they would take comfort from his words. You couldn't really go wrong either way really.

"Hey," he called out again when he didn't get a reply. "You ok?"

The buddle suddenly shifted, catching Tim momentarily of guard as a pale hand shot out from under the coat and grabbed his wrist. "Help."

The voice was hoarse, dead, pained.

"What?"

And Tim was met with the brightest pair of gray eyes he'd ever seen, a shock white tufts of hair barely dragging his attention away from them as the teen; for he couldn't have been much older than Tim himself, tilted over, eyes fluttering close and allowing gravity to drag him down to the filthy ground.

Tim caught him, fingers wrapping clumsily around a thin waist and hands meeting clammy skin and wet patches of not so shallow cuts that were probably infected by now and definitely still bleeding.

Fuck.

And as the shuddering breath of the white-haired teen puffed shakily against his neck where they were both sprawled across the dirty alleyway floor of Gotham city, Tim new for a fact that he wasn't going to make it back in time for the annual family dinner.


	2. Chapter 2

The kid was heavy.

Tim wasn't a slacker by any means, but even he could admit to himself; albeit only in his grumbling thoughts, that the kid was surprisingly much more heavier than his fragile appearance led him to believe.

Huffing through the strain put on his already exhausted muscles, Tim tried again to haul the unconscious teenager up from the floor and into some semblance of a fireman carry without jolting his injuries too much.

Not a lot of success in the latter department; going off of the pained groan that escaped the other boy's lips, but Tim did finally manage to pick him up, and with a satisfied exhale, he started to push forward towards his car in slow but steady pace.

The musky smell of the alleyway was gag inducing to the vigilante and he was barely managing to clamp his mouth shut and not throw up, but unfortunately for Tim's sense of smell and taste, it wasn't a stink that went away by the time he emerged from the dark shadows of the alley.

In fact the disgusting smell wormed its way further into his nostrils as it turned out that not only was it still surrounding him, but was also coming from the teenager draped over his shoulders. It was like carrying a sewer on his back really.

Tim gagged. Urgh, he was going to throw out each and every piece of this tailor-made suit after he got home, maybe even shave his hair.

God, he couldn't stand the smell. Wrinkling his nose in distress, Tim tried to speed up a little more. The quicker he got this random hobo out of his eye watering cloths and into more hygiene friendly pair the better of he would be.

Stumbling his way over to his car, Tim took a brief moment to mourn the new- beautiful and quite frankly expensive leather seats, before he twisted the door open and carefully lowered the unconscious teenager into the back seat.

'_Might as well go all the way,' _he thought, stretching over the teenager briefly and snatching his discarded jacket from the floor, before he quickly folded it, lifted the white head carefully, and lowered it back down after positioning the jacket under it as a makeshift pillow.

'_There'_

Sighing, he stood back up; careful not to hit his head on the doorframe and observed the homeless person in his car thoughtfully.

_What was he really doing exactly?_

He'd just taken some random hobo from the street and was now planning to what? Take him home?

Tim blinked slowly at what now was downing on him to be an actually terribly thought out plan. Still-

It's not like he could leave the teen alone on the freaking streets either. What if those men came back again to finish the job. Plus he was injured, no matter how much better the shelters around these neighborhoods had become with the help of the Wayne's, this was still Gotham. His injuries would fester and get infest long before the staff got around to treating him.

No, he was better off with Tim. At least until he was back on his feet. Tim could do that much. Besides, he didn't lack the money or resources and if push came to shove, he could just bring him down to a shelter anyways.

Deciding that that was what he was going to do for now, Tim shut the back door softly behind the other teen, before circling the car and sinking into the driver's seat himself. "I must be suffering from the Bruce syndrome," he muttered to himself, as he turned the key and started the car. "No way a Drake would actually do this. "

Tapping the wheel with his fingers, Tim pursed his lips in thought. He couldn't go to the mansion now that was obvious, but his apartment would also be the first place his family would check if he didn't show up by tomorrow; and Tim wasn't planning to show up for at least the next couple of days, so where to?

"I'm missing a family dinner because of you, you know." he called out to kid slumping in the back of his car.

He didn't get an answer back, but that was to be expected. "I think I'll take you to one of my hideouts," he continued. Tim liked to think out loud and what mystery boy couldn't hear wouldn't really bother him. "It will take a while for them to discover where I am if I plan this carefully."

With a flimsy plan slowly forming in his head, Tim took a sharp turn to the right and started driving in the opposite direction of the beckoning family reunion. He wasn't going to miss it if he was being honest with himself. Still, it would have been nice to see Cass in one of the few days she actually had the time off to come see him.

Oh well, he'll make sure to visit her in China one of these days. Maybe next month perhaps? He mulled that thought over all the way to the two-store building on the corner of Saint Brook's street.

"We're here."

Stepping out of the car, he proceeded to again drag the dead weight of the teen over his shoulder again.

It didn't work.

Frowning, he pushed him back down on the seats before trying again; this time to carry him on his back.

Another fail.

Blowing out an air of frustration, he ran rough fingers through his hair. This shouldn't be so difficult what the hell? Leaning down again, he carefully pushed his arm under the kid. Fingers moving carefully and hand being as gentle as he could manage. It was so noticeable how thin the other boy really was when he actually touched him. Tim could practically count his ribs with his fingers from where they dangerously poked out from under the stretched out skin spread across his starved body. Brushing against the unconscious boy's side lightly, he froze when the teen stirred.

He didn't move, for fear of waking the kid up. Standing as still as a mouse, he didn't even dare to breathe out loud in case that pushed the kid into full wakefulness.

When nothing else happened however, his shoulders slumped in silent relief. Moving his other arm then, he positioned it under the kid's head, carefully helping him sit up. The stranger's movements where so lifeless and dead, Tim would have honestly thought he was already dead if his eyelids didn't occasionally flutter and his body didn't twitch at the briefest of touches as if aware of something foreign near him, something unwelcome. Tim knew that instinct well.

He frowned. It wasn't right. Wasn't right that someone so young could look so pained during something as peaceful as unconsciousness.

Pushing that uncomfortable thought to the back of his mind for the time being, he focused on getting the teen out of the car. The heavy coat he was wearing was making it difficult to maneuver him, but he was also shivering the tiniest bit, and it made Tim decide against taking it off him for now, no matter how bad it smelled.

"Ok," he said, throwing a lifeless arm over his shoulder. "This is gonna hurt, but you going to have to work with me sleeping beauty."

Pushing himself fully into a standing position, he practically dragged the heavy weight leaning on his shoulder fully on his feet. A tiny grimace took over the other teen's face briefly, but then, nothing.

Tim sighed again. "I guess I'm on my own."

The trek to the apartment was hell. The elevator had been broken, and to his misfortune, Ms. Sue from down the hall had come out and asked him a series of questions about the suspicious boy he was carrying; Tim had never had trouble coming up with excuses before, but damn it, he was tired. "He's my friend. Kinda fell on bad times Ma'am."

Tim was immensely glad that his cover as Rodger Pluming; a street thug who was leaving that sort of lifestyle behind, sort of backed his story.

"Oh," the old lady had said, looking at him with something akin to worry mixed with mild disgust. "Is that so dear. I hope your friend will be alright then." With those last parting words, she gave him a tight-lipped smile, turned back around and disappeared behind her own door.

The raved haired teenager breathed a sigh of relief. Fumbling with his own set of keys to get into his apartment, Tim was careful not to drop the teen slung over his shoulder as he kicked the door shut behind him and moved towards the single coach in the middle of the living room.

Disposing the dead weight on the sofa in the most gentles way his tired body was capable off, he finally flung himself on the arm chair next to it, sinking into the cushions and resting his eyes for the first time since his day started twenty-four hours ago.

_Damn_

He was so so tired.

Toing of his shoes, he allowed himself to relax for only as long as it took his body to shift gears again and pull itself together.

Gripping the armrests, Tim pushed himself back into a standing position and slowly made his way back over to the unconscious teen. He hadn't moved a muscle since the time the adopted Wayne son had dragged him out of the car. In fact, he looked more peaceful than Tim had ever seen him for the short time he'd observed the kid.

His breathing was soft if not shaky, his face drawn into the slightest hint of grimace but besides that, he didn't look any different than those sleepy figures his friends made after a tiring mission with the titans. And-

Tim looked closer. Now that he was paying attention- some sort of make-up appeared to be caked thickly across most of the other's face. "Hiding an ugly scar maybe?" Tim thought out loud. "Or he's trying to blend in for some reason."

Either way, Tim needed to make sure he didn't die on his couch.

'_Well,'_ he thought. _'I guess I'll have to tend to those wounds first.'_

It would be a long night indeed.


	3. Chapter 3

Everything hurt. He couldn't move – couldn't see – couldn't breathe.

_Pain_. So much pain. Allen didn't know where he was, didn't understand this darkness, this loneliness. _'Kanda?_' he wondered through broken glimpses of chaos and drowning corpses. _'Where was Kanda?' _

A brief flash of explosion danced under his eyelids, momentarily filling the blackness keeping him prisoner; blood, screams, cries, death. _What had happened?_ They had been ok. He knew they most have been ok. Kanda had been there, a rough hand around his wrist, pale lips drawn into a snarl, blue eyes darting around to check for enemies long gone.

Kanda had been there. The ghost of his fingers still lingered on wrist, he remembered that. Then why-

Why did thinking about him make his chest twist with agony?

"_Go!"_

That had been Kanda. His scream torn from his throat in a way Allen had never heard his voice before. _...Desperation..._

_...Terror..._

_...Fear... Yuu had been scared. _

'_For me?'_

_No... Maybe?_ Allen forced his mind to waddle through his burned-up memories like an infant just learning how to crawl; Clumsy and unsure. Kanda _had_ been worried about him, he knew that with certainty somewhere deep down in his tainted soul. _They _had found him. So he had to go, move, get away, but-

In that moment, Allen hadn't been Kanda's primary concern.

Then who?

An image of a bright red hair and even brighter smile flashed through his mind, and suddenly he remembered someone, someone whom his whole entire being screamed just remembering.

_Lavi_

Kanda – they? - Him?... They had been trying to save Lavi right? Kanda had left him to save Lavi. They had been looking for him – the order had found them, so Allen had to go.

Kanda couldn't come with him... He had to save Lavi. They were so close. They couldn't just abandon the mission and run.

It hurt briefly; that feeling of abandonment, but it had been_ Lavi. _

Then what? What happened?

His memories turned into a mess of shards past that point. Pieces were missing; he knew that, some already faded too far to retrieve. Still, what had happened after that, after they parted?

His brain hurt trying to dredge those flimsy scenes up. He grimaced internally.

"Hello? Can you hear me?"

_Huh_

"Hello?" - It was like the voice broke through layers of confusion and unsteadiness that had been chaining Allen down to the depth of his own broken memories. The voice... It felt like a lifeline. Allen reached up, desperately trying to grasp a hold of the whispers; not willing to let go of the only thing shining bright inside of these red splashes of pain surrounding him.

Slowly, his body started to register other sensations outside of pain; like the soothing, cold material resting on his forehead. His jaw unclenched and he breathed a sigh of relief.

His body was screeching in agony, but that single point of cooling contact made gratitude wash away the rest... Or at least dull it down into an echo version of itself.

"Kanda?" he muttered groggily.

"No, I'm afraid not."

His eyes snapped open, and before his brain even had the time to fully register the face hovering over his own in barely masked concern, Allen was across the floor and on his way to the nearest exit.

He didn't make it far.

Legs suddenly giving out from under him, he crumbled with a distressed grunt just five steps away from where he'd originally laid just a couple of seconds ago. "Hey easy," the stranger said, taking a careful step closer to him as he held his arms up as a sign of trust. "I'm not going to hurt you. You're injured, so you shouldn't move around so much."

None of the words fully computed in Allen's mind. So he snarled. "Stay away from me!" The figure froze. "Where am I? Who are you? Where is Kanda?"

"At my apartment," the figure started... Slowly? Had his voice sounded that far from the beginning? Allen frowned up at him from his position on the carpet. Blinking away the sudden blurriness, he squeezed his brows together in concentration.

"Hey, you don't look so good."

Allen opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He snapped it shut. Nausea suddenly overtaking him in waves. It was all he could to do keep himself from heaving pathetically in front of this complete stranger.

For some reason-

"Maybe you should lie down."

He didn't feel so good-

"_Hey"_

**Crown clown**... **Innocence **– Fight back, he needed to fight back.

"_Hey, Snow white!"_ The figure sounded alarmed. _"Why?"_

Vision blurring for the last time, Allen felt himself being dragged back under and into the cold embrace of darkness again. He desperately tried to fight back.

The alarmed shouts of the stranger filtered through the buzzing in his ears. He had without Allen's notice come closer. Now he was sitting next to him, careful hand resting on Allen's back. For some reason it felt warm where it rested between his shoulder blades. "You're nice," he muttered without thinking, blinking slowly and twisting his bandaged hand protectively under him. "Like her. _I miss her too." _Concerned violet eyes,tired lines, pale skin and such a pretty green hair, and then, he felt nothing.


	4. Chapter 4

Tim with a tired sigh, lifted up the still form again, and gently lay him back down on the sofa. Making sure not to aggravate any of his bandaged injuries along the way. "You're more trouble than you're worth," he muttered, exhaustion dripping from every word, as he draped a slightly blood-stained quilt back over the teen.

Maybe he should recheck those bandages again? Who knows what the other boy had pulled in his haste to get out of here. Tim stood there for a second just contemplating his decisions. In the end, he sighed again and shuffled his way over to his bedroom to pick up the medical kit he'd just disposed of about an hour ago and walked his way back to the sofa.

Sitting back down on the empty chair he'd left when the other had panicked, he carefully started brushing his fingers over the white cloths wrapped around the sleeping boy's chest.

Everything looked good as far as he could tell, and Tim found himself sighing a breath of relief. He honestly didn't think he could handle looking at that scarred and damaged body again. Sure he had his own fair share of healed injuries, but... The giant on – It practically cut the teen in half; from his left shoulder all the way to his navel. It made Tim shudder in sympathy.

How anyone could survive anything like that he had no clue, but the teen obviously had, and maybe he could ask him about it the next time he woke up?

Tim then frowned down at the wrapped right arm that he hadn't touched yet. The bandages were dirty and frankly smelled terrible, but the kid had flinched when he'd first tried to change them, so he'd let them be. '_For now,_' Tim thought; face twisting into a set determination._ 'I'll talk him into it. That and a bath hopefully.'_

He'd washed away as much of the grim, dirt and blood as he could; with the washcloth he'd left in the kitchen sink, but it was just so much Tim could do without stripping the unconscious male and hosing him down outside; which he guessed wouldn't really be appreciated.

A sudden twitch and soft muttering of the white-haired teen made Tim freeze up; fingers still hovering over his forehead, he held his breath, but fortunately, with another turn of his head, the other stopped moving.

The muttering though; Tim frowned down at the kid in concern, it kept getting louder. "Stop," the kid said, brows furring and lips growing taut at the corners. "Stop please... Please don't hurt them. Stop!"

A nightmare.

Tim swallowed thickly, a sliver of pity coursing through his veins. He hated nightmares, it's why he never slept if he could help it.

"I'm not... Please stop!"

Without thinking, Tim's hand moved away from the washcloth on the other's forehead, and started slowly running his fingers through his white matted hair. "It's ok," he muttered; trying his hardest to sound soothing. "You're safe, ok. You're safe. Wherever you are in your head, you're not there anymore." He didn't really know what he was doing or even if it was working, but- "It's ok. You're safe."

Whenever he'd had a nasty dream or too vivid of a nightmare, he'd wanted someone to say that... Talk him through his horrors and make sure he knew he wasn't alone, so... he softly patted the hair of the strange kid sleeping in his living room, and as gently and as confidant as he could, told him "It's ok, you're not alone so please calm down."

Nothing happened at first; the teenager still muttering loudly in his sleep, but eventually, Tim still running his fingers through his dirty hair; the pleading started to die down and the anguished face slowly began to relax back into a more peaceful one, and finally, the muttering stopped all together, and with the shuddering breaths evening out, Tim could sit back with a tense sigh, and close his eyes in relief.

_What had he gotten himself into? _

Rubbing his eyes in exhaustion, he puffed out his cheeks and slumped even further in his chair. Maybe a tiny bit of a nap wasn't such a bad idea? He would only close his eyes for a minute, and then he would go down to his car again and pick up his phone and call Alfred back and-

It... He didn't know when his mind slipped away, but before he knew it, darkness set in, and he walked away from his body and into dreamland.

* * *

Don't worry. This story does have an overarching plot, and both boys aren't gonna sleep much longer (as Allen heals quickly enough), and Tim just needs a bit of sleep. Next chapter there will be more coherency between them and finally some much needed conversation and interactions. Bat family also coming up soon. Who? I won't say!


	5. Chapter 5

_Sorry for the late update folks! Kinda took me a second to get their characters down the way I wanted it too! Still this is one of my favorite fics to write, so I really hope you like it3 _

* * *

Tim was never a heavy sleeper, so when his world tilted dangerously; his consciousness was immediately alerted with a jolt and his eyes snapped open just a hair breathed away from his body hitting the ground. It's not like he had the time to stop himself however, so imagine his surprise, when his decent was suddenly halted by a firm grip around his wrist.

Hovering just a feat from the floor, Tim blinked slowly as his body along with the chair, were dragged back into an upward position.

"Are you ok?"

His head snapped up; eyes connecting with grey once. The other teen smiled at him. Tim stared. For a second, he'd scene... That smile, it looked like Dick's. His stomach twisted, but he still managed to dredge up a tiny smile of his own. "Yeah, I'm good thank you."

The white-haired stranger nodded at him; fingers still clapped around his wrist. " That's good, yeah," he said, finally letting go of his hand and sitting back against the coach. A slight wince pulling at his mouth. "Would be terribly rude of me to let the guy who saved me drop on his head right."

Tim snorted; rubbing a tired fist against his eyes. "You could say that again." He yawned, stretching his muscles fully, before looking back at the other boy. "How long have you been up?"

The teen shrugged. "A couple of minutes?"

Tim was kinda amazed by how casual their conversation was. He was pretty sure Bruce would have been very alarmed by this. One of his robins had practically dragged a stranger of the streets and literally fell asleep at a striking distance from him._ 'Well fuck,' _he thought. In hindsight, maybe that wasn't such a good idea, but, nothing had happened, and as far as Tim could sense, this nameless stranger didn't seem like a bad person. Still-

'_Better put a pin on that thought,'_ he mused; tuning back into the conversation.

"You looked tired and I didn't want to wake you up if I didn't have to." A sheepish smile that looked too much like his brother and- "Besides, it seemed like you needed it."

"I-" What did you say to a homeless person that was being surprisingly nice and cordial towards you? "You didn't have to," he finally said. "But thank you." Sitting straighter in his chair, Tim scoured his mind for any other conversational topics, but try as he might, nothing else came to mind. They both just ended up awkwardly smiling at each other, and Tim honestly just wanted to hide in a hole at this point. He'd never been the best of conservationists, and apparently his guest didn't feel comfortable enough to start any with him... Speaking off-

"Um," he started; immediately getting the attention of the other, who'd been fiddling with the blanket around his knees. "What's your name? You don't have to tell me," he rushed to continue; very aware of his inner Bruce berating him of how stupid that action was, but -" I just want to have something to call you by."

"Oh," the stranger said; lips twisting up at the corners. "Don't worry about it. I don't mind telling you." Leaning over slightly, despite the obvious pain the action caused him; he reached out a hand and said. "Allen Walker, pleased to meet you."

Polite. Alfred would have approved.

Smiling himself, Tim reached over to clasp the single hand between two of his own. "Tim Drake, pleasure is all mine Mr. Walker."

They just stared at each other for a second, and then... Allen's lips trembled slightly, Tim echoed the action, and before either of them could think better of it, they were cracking up. Peals of laughter escaping their lips. "Sorry, sorry," Allen gasped; putting his visible hand over his mouth. "It just sounded so-"

"Ridiculous," Tim finished, laughter slowly dying down, but mirth still dancing in his eyes.

"It's nice to meet you Allen."

The white-haired teen grinned back. "Nice to meet you too Tim."

It was as if all the tense air that had been accumulating ever since the CEO of Wayne enterprises decided to drag a homeless kid home, had suddenly dissipated. Tim find it much more easier to breathe around the teenager now. "Your injuries," he blurted out without thinking, making the other look at him weirdly. Tim winced, but "How are your injuries?"

Allen shrugged lightly. "I don't know," he said. "They sting a bit, but I feel fine."

That was a lie. People didn't call Tim one of the greatest detectives by missing obvious signs like how hard Allen Walker was trying to hide the flair of pain on his expression every time he so much as moved, but Tim wouldn't call him out on it. At least not now. Instead he was going to focus on what was in front of him for now.

"You need a shower dude," he said.

Allen grimaced. "You're not wrong." Tim just smiled at him; gesturing with his hand to the hall behind him.

"After you man."

Allen nodded, slowly straightening himself out; Tim didn't even think before he was reaching out too, putting a supportive hand under the other's elbow. Allen nodded at him, and together, the both of them managed to get him out of his seat and standing.

Face flushed and breath coming out in puffs, Allen shakily, placed his bandaged arm around his midsection, gritting his teeth hard; hair covering his expression from Tim's concerned gaze.

"I'm ok," he muttered, before the other teen could even open his mouth to ask. "Just a little dizzy."

"Maybe you should," Tim started, but he stopped when – A loud growl cut through their conversation.

Allen's neck turned beet red. "Sorry," he sputtered; head shooting up to meet Tim's gaze. "I guess I'm kinda hungry." Tim flushed too. Of course Allen was hungry, why wouldn't he be. He'd been freaking sleeping in the streets. Of course he was hungry. It was Tim's fault that he hadn't considered the thought at all.

"I'll whip something up while you shower," he finally decided, nodding to himself. "Just take your time and I'll make sure to have something for you when you come out."

The white-haired teen went surprisingly quiet at that.

"Something wrong?"

Allen shrugged. "No," he said. "Nothing, it's just" here he grinned widely; cheeks red. "I kinda eat a lot. Like a lot."

Tim's eyes narrowed. "How much are we talking about?" He knew his fair share of heavy eaters. Bart coming to mind, so if Allen could eat that much-

'_He isn't an ordinary human,'_ he thought.

"I'm sorry," Allen said instead. "I'll just have whatever you're having, and I'll be out of your hair. I'm sure I'll find something to eat around here and-"

"What?" Tim might have shaken him if the other hadn't been injured. "I'm rich Allen, your appetite is not going to put me on the streets. Relax."

"Still-"

"No," he interrupted before the other boy could get started; his shoulder was getting tired supporting the other damn it! "Don't worry about it ok. I have a friend who practically inhales a meal for ten people every other hour. So I have the food. Just take a shower and come to the kitchen later. Ok?"

He tried to sound firm, but he didn't think he'd managed to pull it off all that well. Either way, it didn't really matter, because Allen nodded slightly, and let himself be pulled over to the bathroom.

For now, Tim would count that as a win. Disposing Allen in the bathroom, he went to his own room; after he'd made sure the other wouldn't fall over, and picked out a soft pair of pants that wouldn't aggravate his injuries, and a long sleeved shirt Jason had left behind on his last visit.

Something about Allen's left arm was clearly a secret he didn't want to reveal, and Tim wasn't keen on forcing him too. So satisfied with his selection; along with a pair of underwear and socks, Tim made it back to the bathroom and left the items on a stool next to the tub.

Turning on the water, he checked the temperature as he started speaking to the other boy sitting on the closed toilet seat. "Will you be ok showering by yourself?"

"Yeah, I think I'll be fine."

Tim nodded, turning around. "Ok, just call me if you need anything." Allen nodded back, his very constant smile still pulling at his lips. Feeling satisfied for now, the vigilante walked out of the bathroom and softly closed the door behind him.

"Extra bandages are in the cabinet above the sink," he called out; moving towards the kitchen. "If you need help putting them on just ask me!"

"Roger that."

It was time to make dinner, and hey, if Allen was still hungry after that, he was sure he could find some of Bart's energy bars around here. He might not use this apartment a lot, but Tim always had it stocked. Never let it be said that Tim Drake Wayne was never prepared for anything.

* * *

**I really think the both of them would have gotten along really well if they ever met. Tim usually just runs with the punches unless someone looks super suspicious to him, and Allen is like the nicest dude ever. Actually reminds me of Dick, and that's why I had Tim kinda notice that about him, and since both are just used to bizarre things, I do believe they would get along nicely.**


End file.
